The Mammoth Book of Historical Whodunnits Volume 1 (The Mammoth Book Series)

by Mike Ashley

  Travelling homeward, they halted a night at Colchester, and called at an inn – the “Three Crowns” or the “Three Cups” – where Chandler had been seen a few months before. Here, as a fact, after over-running their game near four-score miles, “they got to the very form – yet even there lost their hare.” This inn was kept at that very time by Chandler in partnership with his brother-in-law Smart, who naturally would not betray him, although he was in the house when asked for.

  For this, Chandler thought Colchester “a very improper place for him to continue long in”; there were writs out against him in Essex, Suffolk, and Norfolk; so he sold off his goods and moved to another inn at Coventry, where he set up at the “Sign of the Golden Dragon” under the name of John Smith. Now still fearing arrest, he thought to buy off Winter, the mortgagee, by repaying him something, and sent him £130. But Winter was bitter against him, and writs were taken out for Warwickshire. Chandler had in some way secured the protection of Lord Willoughby de Broke; he had also made friends with the constables of Coventry, and it was not easy to compass his arrest. But at last he was taken, and lodged in the town gaol. Two years had been occupied in this pertinacious pursuit, and Mr. Wise was greatly complimented upon his zeal and presented with a handsome testimonial.

  Chandler, who was supposed to have planned the whole affair with the idea of becoming possessed of a considerable sum in ready money, was found guilty of perjury, and was sentenced to be put in the pillory next market-day at Reading from twelve to one and afterwards to be transported for seven years.

  A curious feature in the trial was the identification of Chandler as John Smith by Casson, who told how at Amsterdam he (Chandler) had received payment for his bills partly in silver, £150 worth of ducats and Spanish pistoles, which broke down both his pockets so that the witness had to get a rice sack and hire a wheel-barrow to convey the coin to the Delft “scout,” where it was deposited in a chest and so conveyed to England.

  As the years ran on, it was claimed for the officers of Bow Street that they effected many captures, and the names of such men as Vickery, Lavender, Sayer, Donaldson, and Townshend are still remembered for their skill. None of them did better, however, than a certain Mr. Denovan, a Scotch officer of great intelligence and unwearied patience who was employed by the Paisley Union Bank to defend it against the extraordinary pretensions of a man who had robbed it and yet sued it for the restoration of property which was clearly the Bank’s and not his. For the first and probably only time known in this country, an acknowledged thief was seen contending with people in open court for property he had stolen from them.

  The hero of this strange episode was one Mackcoull, a hardened criminal who had entered the Royal Navy to escape arrest, had served with credit but on discharge in 1785 had relapsed, returning to evil courses, and he is said to have eclipsed all his former companions in iniquity. He was proficient in every line, had been “pugilist, horse-racer, cockfighter, gambler, swindler, and pickpocket, choosing churches as his favourite hunting-ground.” His self-possession was so great that he was commonly called the “Heathen Philosopher” by his associates. Bank burglary now promised to be a more profitable business than any, and he started in it well equipped with the best implements and well-chosen confederates.

  His robbery of the Paisley Union Bank in Glasgow was cleverly planned and boldly executed. He was assisted by two men, French and Huffey White – the latter a convict at the hulks whose escape Mackcoull had compassed on purpose. They broke in one Sunday night, July 14th, 1811, with keys carefully fitted long in advance, and soon ransacked the safe and drawers, securing in gold and notes something like £20,000. Of course they left Glasgow, travelling full speed in a post-chaise and four first to Edinburgh, and then via Edinburgh, Haddington, Newcastle, southward to London. In the division of the spoil, which now took place, Mackcoull contrived to keep the lion’s share. White was apprehended, and to save his life a certain sum was surrendered to the Bank, but some of the money seems to have stuck to the fingers of a Bow Street officer, Sayer, who had negotiated between Mackcoull and the Bank. Mackcoull himself had retained about £8,000.

  In 1812, after a supposed visit to the West Indies, he reappeared in London, where he was arrested for breach of faith with the Bank and sent to Glasgow for trial. He got off by a promise of further restitution, and because the Bank was unable at that time to prove his complicity in the burglary. An agent, who had handed over £1,000 on his account, was then sued by, Mackcoull for acting without proper authority, and was obliged to refund a great part of the money. Nothing could exceed his effrontery. He traded openly as a bill broker for Scotland under the names of James Martin, buying the bills with the stolen notes and having sometimes as much as £2,000 on deposit in another bank. At last he was arrested, and a quantity of notes and drafts were seized with him. He was presently discharged, but they were impounded, and by-and-by he began a suit to recover “his property,” the proceeds really of his theft from the Bank. His demeanour in court was most impudent. Crowds filled the court when he gave his evidence, which he did with great effrontery, posing always as an innocent and much injured man.

  It was incumbent upon the Bank to end this disgraceful parody of legal proceedings; either they must prove Mackcoull’s guilt or lose their action – an action brought, it must be remembered, by a public depredator against a respectable banking company for trying to keep back part of the property of which he had robbed them. In this difficulty they appealed to Mr. Denovan, and sent him to collect evidence showing that Mackcoull was implicated in the original robbery in 1811.

  Denovan left Edinburgh on the 8th January, 1820, meaning to follow the exact route of the fugitives to the south. All along the road he came upon traces of them in the “post-books” or in the memory of inn-keepers, waiters, and ostlers. He passed through Dunbar, Berwick, and Belford, pausing at the latter place to hunt up a certain George Johnson, who was said to be able to identify Mackcoull. Johnson had been a waiter at the “Talbot” Inn, Darlington, in 1811, but was now gone, where, his parents (who lived in Belford) could not say. “Observing, however, that there was a church behind the inn,” writes Mr. Denovan, “a thought struck me I might hear something in the churchyard on Sunday morning,” and he was rewarded with the address of Thomas Johnson, a brother of George’s, “a pedlar or travelling merchant.” “I immediately set forth in a post-chaise and found Thomas Johnson, who gave me news of George.” He was still alive, and was a waiter either at the “Bay Horse” in Leeds or somewhere in Tadcaster, or at a small inn at Spittal-on-the-Moor, in Westmoreland, but his father-in-law, Thomas Cockbum of York, would certainly know.

  Pushing on, Denovan heard of his men at Alnwick. A barber there had shaved them. “I was anxious to see the barber, but found he had put an end to his existence some years, ago.” At Morpeth, the inn at which they had stopped was shut up. At Newcastle, the posting-book was lost, and, when found in the bar of the “Crown and Thistle,” was “so mutilated as to be useless.” But at the “Queen’s Head,” Durham, there was an entry: “Chaise and four to Darlington – Will and Will.” The second “Will” was still alive – an ancient postboy who remembered Mackoull as the oldest – a stiff, red-faced man,” the usual description given of him. The landlady here, Mrs. Jane Escott, remembered three men arriving in a chaise, who said they were pushing on to London with a quantity of Scotch banknotes. At the “Talbot” Inn, Darlington, where George Johnson lived, the scent failed till Denovan at another inn, the “King’s Head,” ascertained that the landlord remembered three fugitives coming from Durham, and that he had observed that three such queer-looking chaps should be posting it.

  At Northallerton there was evidence; that of Scotch notes changed and at York news of George Johnson, who was found at last at a fish hawker’s in Tadcaster. Johnson’s evidence was most valuable, and he willingly agreed to give it in court at Edinburgh. He had seen men at Dunbar, the oldest, “a stiff stout man with a red face seemed to take the management
and paid the post-boys their hire.” He had offered a £20 Scotch note in payment for two pints of sherry and some biscuits, but there was not change enough in the house, and White was asked for smaller money, when he took out his pocket-book stuffed full of bank-notes, all too large, so the first note was changed by Johnson at the Darlington Bank. Johnson ws sure he would know the stiff man again, amongst a hundred others, in any dress.

  There was nothing more now till the “White Hart,” Welwyn, where the fugitives took the light post coach. At Welwyn, too, they had sent off a portmanteau to an address, and this portmanteau was afterwards recovered with the address in Mackcoull’s hand, the other two being unable to write. At Welwyn Mr. Denovan heard of one Cunington who had been a waiter at the inn in 1811, but left in 1813 for London, who was said to know something of the matter. The search for this Cunington was the next task, and Mr. Denovan pushed on to London hoping to find him there. “In company with a private friend, I went up and down Holborn, from house to house, inquiring for him at every baker’s, grocer’s, or public house,” but heard nothing. The same at the coaching offices, until at last a guard who knew Cunington said he was in Brighton. But the man had left Brighton, first for Horsham, then for Margate, and then back to London, where Mr. Denovan ran him down at last as a patient in the Middlesex Hospital.

  Cunington was quite as important a witness as Johnson. He declared he would know Mackcoull among a thousand. He had seen the three men counting over notes at the “White Hart”; Mackcoull did not seem to be a proper companion for the two; he took the lead and was the only one who used pen, ink, and paper. Cunington expressed his willingness to go to Edinburgh if his health permitted.

  Since Denovan’s arrival in London he had received but little assistance at Bow Street. The runners were irritated at the way the case had been managed. One of them, Sayer, who had been concerned in the restitution, flatly refused to have anything to do with the business or to go to Edinburgh to give evidence. This was presently explained by another runner, the famous Townshend, who hinted that Sayer’s hands were not clean, and that he was on very friendly terms with Mackcoull’s wife, a lady of very questionable character, who was living in comfort on some of her husband’s ill-gotten gains. Indeed, Sayer’s conduct had caused a serious quarrel between him and his colleagues, Lavender, Vickery, and Harry Adkins, because he had deceived and forestalled them. Denovan was, however, on intimate terms with Lavender, another famous runner, whom he persuaded to assist, and through him he came upon the portmanteau sent from Welwyn, which had been seized at the time of Huffey White’s arrest. Huffey had been taken in the house of one Scottock, a blacksmith in the Tottenham Court Road, also the portmanteau, and a box of skeleton keys. The portmanteau contained a great many papers and notes damaging to Mackcoull, and in the box were house-breaking implements, punches, files, and various “dubs” and “skrews,” as well as two handkerchiefs of fawn colour with a broad border, such as the three thieves often wore when in their lodgings in Glasgow, immediately before the robbery.

  How Mr. Denovan found and won over Mr. Scottock is the chief feather in his cap. His success astonished even the oldest officers in Bow Street. Scottock was the friend and associate of burglars constantly engaged in manufacturing implements for them. He had long been a friend of Mackcoull’s, and had made many tools for him, those especially for the robbery of the Paisley Union Bank, a coup prepared long beforehand. The first set of keys supplied had really been tried on the Bank locks and found useless, so that Scottock furnished others and sent them down by mail. These also were ineffective, as the Bank had “simple old-fashioned locks,” and Mackcoull came back from Glasgow, bringing with him “a wooden model of the key-hole and pike of the locks,” which enabled Scottock to complete the job easily. “I wonder,” said Scottock to Mr. Denovan, “that the Bank could have trusted so much money under such very simple things.” Scottock would not allow any of this evidence to be set down in writing, but he agreed to go down to Edinburgh and give it in Court, swearing also to receiving the portmanteau addressed in the handwriting of Mackcoull.

  Denovan’s greatest triumph was with Mrs. Mackcoull. She kept a house furnished in an elegant manner, but was not a very reputable person. “She was extremely shy at first, and as if by chance, but to show me she was prepared for anything, she lifted one of the cushions on her settee, displaying a pair of horse pistols that lay below,” on which he produced a down-barrelled pistol and a card bearing the address “at the public office, Bow Street.” Then she gave him her hand, and “we understood each other.” But still she was very reticent, acting, as Mr. Denovan believed, under the advice of Sayer, her friend, the Bow Street Runner. She was afraid she would be called upon to make restitution of that part of the booty that had gone her way. Denovan strongly suspected that she had received a large sum from her husband, and had refused to give it back to him – “the real cause of their misunderstanding,” which was indeed so serious that he had no great difficulty in persuading her also to give evidence at Edinburgh.

  Such was the result of an inquiry that scarcely occupied a month. It was so complete that the celebrated Lord Cockburn, who was at that time counsel for the Bank, declared “nothing could exceed Denovan’s skill, and that the investigation had the great merit of being amply sustained by evidence in all its important parts.” When the trial of the cause came on in February, and Denovan appeared in Court with all the principal witnesses, Johnson, Cunington, Scottock, and Mr. Mackcoull, the defendant – it was only a civil suit – he was unable to conceal his emotion, and fainted away.

  Next month Mackcoull was arraigned on the criminal charge, and after trial was found guilty and sentenced to death. But he cheated the gallows. Even before the verdict was given his changed demeanour was noticed in Court; he frequently muttered, ground his teeth, or looked around with a vacant stare. Afterwards he broke down utterly, and although reprieved, his mind gave way.

  Appendix

  THE CHRONICLERS OF CRIME

  The forerunners of

  Sherlock Holmes

  The following traces the adventures of fictional detectives from 2000 BC to 1870, nearly four thousand years of detection. It’s by no means exhaustive but I believe it covers the majority of novels and stories. I’d like to hear from anyone who knows of any significant omissions. I have excluded stories which are more historical crime than detection, particularly those from the Victorian period. I have also drawn the completion date at 1870, as thereafter the “modern” detective/police novel takes over, and the number of Sherlock Holmes stories would fill a book of their own.

  Ancient Egypt

  Agatha Christie, Death Comes as the End (1941), c2000 BC.

  As death follows death the survivors in an Egyptian family try to identify the murderer.

  Elizabeth Peters, “The Locked Tomb Mystery” (1989), c1400 BC.

  Amenhotep Sa Hapu, a venerated Egyptian sage and scholar, investigates a robbed tomb. Reprinted in this anthology.

  Anton Gill, City of the Horizon (1991), 1361 BC.

  In the days after the death of the reformist pharaoh Akhenaten, Huy the Scribe, jobless and fearing for his life, finds himself becoming the world’s first private investigator. Followed by City of Dreams (1993) and City of the Dead.

  Ancient Greece

  Brèni James, “Socrates Solves a Murder” (1954), c400 BC.

  One of two short stories where Socrates uses his powers of deduction to solve two murders. The first is reprinted in this anthology. The second is “Socrates Solves Another Murder” (1955).

  Theodore Mathieson, “Alexander the Great, Detective” (1959), 323 BC.

  One of Mathieson’s stories in The Great Detectives (1960) featuring famous historical characters solving crimes.

  Ancient Rome

  John Maddox Roberts, SPQR (1990), 70 BC onwards.

  First in a series featuring Decius Caecilius Metellus, a Roman official and a member of a noble Roman family, who lived through the most turbulent p
eriod of Roman history. The series continues with The Catiline Conspiracy (1991), The Sacrilege (1992) The Temple of the Muses (1992), and Saturnalia, plus the new short story, “Mightier Than the Sword”, in this anthology.

  Ron Burns, Roman Nights (1991), 43 BC onwards.

  Features the young Roman senator Gaius Livinius Severus who finds himself engulfed in danger and intrigue in the turbulent days after the death of Julius Caesar. Sequel is Roman Shadows (1992).

  Edward D. Hoch, “The Three Travelers” (1976), 4 BC.

  In which the Three Wise Men on their way to the birth of the Messiah, find they have to investigate the theft of one of their precious gifts.

  Anthony Price, “The Boudica Killing” (1979), AD 60.

  Features the old and grizzled soldier Gaius Celer whose battle-weary knowledge allows him to resolve a murder in ancient Britain. An earlier story by Price, “A Green Boy” (1973), also features Celer but is set some years later, about AD 77.